The Duiker - Robin Vanderplank

A story written for a young boy whose world was shattered – exploring a brand new end.

I

A long time ago in the steep hills of Zululand
Lived a young boy.
He was very happy because he loved cows, goats and horses
This was no an ordinary farm
There were chickens and ducks and rabbits –
As well as tractors and lorries.

Best of all, the boy liked to go walking –
There were steep narrow valleys
With indigenous bush –
To these secret places he went on his own.

In the shade
Inside the steep little valley
The heat of the midday sun disappeared –
The change in temperature gave him goose bumps –
He had moved into a different world.

He knelt down in the soft giving soil
Smelling the decay in the leaves and mould.
Right on the edge of the rivulet
He stretched his arms out in front of him
Placing his hands on the firmest tufts
Then bent his head down
Until his nose and lips were in the cool soft water.

He sucked up the water like a deer
Careful not to disturb the fine sediment.

This was a different world
With magic closed in secrets
Shady and protected
It kept out the harsh hot son beating down overhead.

He wiped his hands on his bare legs
Brushed the loose fine soil from his knees
His boots were muddy and friendly.

He found a spot were he could sit.
He watched the silent shadows gently
Pushing pools of filtered sunlight around –
The light above the cathedral high canopy
Navigating it’s a way
Past the leaves of smaller trees and bushes.
Was it a breeze overhead
Made the trees move and sway
The little round pools of light dance?

He wasn’t alone.
A tiny frog plopped and rustled some dry leaves.
A water boatman made strong darting movements back and around
How did he ski like that on the water?
A long green reed moved and swayed in the non existent breeze
Gradually coming lower and lower
Then it slid along the ground with the easiest of movements -
(What happened at the front end
Seemed independent but somehow connected to the back end
The movement in the middle, obedient!)
He watched the red forked tongue taste the air
Then seemingly, without moving, all moved effortlessly up the bank.

A bluefly broke the silence then buzzed away.

The coolness and the floating patches of light
Mesmerized him
The half world swam blurred in and out of focus.

A grey shadow moved
A silent witness to the enchanted boy.
She was about to deliver her kid –
Almost the smallest antelope
Impunzi – a duiker.

Her pointed nose sniffed the air and then slowly, she drank –
The shadow hand then absorbed her completely.
Was she real he wondered or just his imagination wishing –
His longing to be one with all this gentleness of nature.

II

The world he knew up the hill
Along the hot baked rain gullied road
Was not soft and gentle nor natural.

The hot corrugated iron baked house
Made with unbaked clay bricks
Stood at right angles to itself
It was held together by ‘daka’ – well mixed mud.
The big bad wolf wouldn’t gobble up little piggies in that house - but
Each brick contained in itself
The force to destroy itself
Montmorillonite
Particles in the clay that absorb moisture
Causing the unbaked brick to swell and eventually crumble.

His parents hadn’t had money to match their dreams.
They wanted the best equipment
The most modern machinery
A business of exporting quality
And importing money.
They did have land
So banks were easily convinced to believe their dream.

Then the nightmare began

The dream curdled and soured
The money owing to the banks
Weighted heavy on their necks
Forcing them to their knees –
It dragged them all down.

Blame seared the air destroying love.
Accusations fiery darts contained a terrible toxin
To which they did not know the antidote.

In the end it did not matter whose fault it was
They lost everything
For love had turned to anger, bitterness and destruction.

The boy sadly left the peaceful magic of the rivulet
He stepped out into the harsh hot blinding sunshine
He went home with his heart full of resentment –
He was losing everything that he loved.
He fetched his rifle
Determined
To kill the duiker.

III

Many years went by
His mother and father divorced
He kept hearing stories about whose fault it all was
It was awful being torn apart.

He coped with the pain in his way –
He became inflexible and explosive
How could you trust adults?
From now on
He would trust himself!

His anger and sadness kept being fuelled by his
Frustrations.

IV

This story is about a very special young man.
Even though it would seem like it –
He’s not horrible, uncaring and manipulative
He’s not mean and selfish.
He’s sensitive and loving and warm
He has a special place in his heart for others
Look at the way he loves and cares for animals.

No no, he is very sore and very hurt even now
He gets terribly angry
You should hear him shout!
But he is the boy whose smell the duiker trusted.

V

You can easily push him into a corner
You know all the things which will make his anger flash.
But he is very bright
You can talk to him
You can work things out with him
You can negotiate alternatives that satisfy you both
You can help him see that in between
Black and white there is grey (duikers are grey!)
You can help him
He needs you
So he can stay calm, can think.

So choose wisely parent
Choose what he ‘must’ and ‘must not’ do.
Only if his safety or that of others is threatened
Do you have no choice:

For the rest, help him to stay calm enough to think.
He has a wonderful mind
He will surprise you
He will learn to compromise.
Together there are so many things that you can solve.

For the moment
There are even lots of things which you will definitely not mention.
In time he will learn to keep calm even when frustrated
Then there will be more that you can do together.

He will then be very close
To oneness
With the secret valley
The duiker and
Himself.